


Robbed Beauty

by Bri_Nara



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slit-Mouth!Shinguuji, Written Pre-English Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bri_Nara/pseuds/Bri_Nara
Summary: Shinguuji had always looked similar to his older sister, which is why he must wear a mask now...





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was really hoping they'd utilize the mask a little more and make it a cultural reference to something, so I decided to just write an AU that's basically "What if Shinguuji has a slit mouth under that mask like a kuchisake-onna?" This was going to be longer but I've decided to just split the story up into a series. Please enjoy it!

Korekiyo used to look a lot like sister.

This used to be a fact that he was rather proud of. He looked like his older sister, whose eyes lit up like warm candles when she told him a story. He looked like his warm sister, who was able to bring make anyone feel at ease with her mere presence. He looked like his dearest sister, who was proud of him and worked so hard for him.

How unfortunate that he looked like his sister.

He sat up in bed and peered around the dark room with eyes still bleary with sleep. He reached a hand out and blindly groped around for his mask. When it didn’t immediately meet his hand, he roughly threw the sheets up.

His mask wasn’t there.

A sharp spike of fear ran up his spine and shook him into awareness. He was almost instantly crawling on his hands and knees all over the bed. Flipping over the sheets. Tossing the pillows. Dipping his torso over the sides to see if it had somehow ended up under the bed.

It _couldn’t_ be gone.

It _had_ to be here.

He _needed_ it.

That’s when he finally spotted it on the floor almost halfway across the room.

He let out a sigh of relief and placed a hand to his chest. His heart was still pounding furiously beneath his fingertips.

How dare you lose that mask, it said.

He approached the mask and picked it up. The material of it felt familiar. _Safe_.

He straightened up his back and his gaze landed forward. His breath stopped. His heart seemed to stumble in its just recovering rhythm. His grip on his mask tightened.

He caught sight of his reflection.

His long, dark hair framed his face and shoulders. His pale night clothes made him practically glow in the darkness of the room. With his gaunt and nearly androgynous appearance, he could have passed for a proper onryo.

But he couldn’t think that. Looking like a vengeful spirit should not be something that crossed his mind. Not when he looked like her. No, that would only make it worse.

But with his eyes locked onto his face, he couldn’t really avoid the thought.

On what used to be his cheeks, starting from the corners of his lips, were gnarly scars.

His eyes were haunted, disappointed, and vaguely disgusted. Then they turned pained just as he wrenched his eyes away from the mirror. His fingers fumbled as he hastily tried to put the mask on.

He closed his eyes and faced the mirror again. Once he opened them again, he was able to relax.

It was definitely him now. The mask sealed away the serpents of bitter memories strangling his throat. He finally felt himself start to ease for the first time since he’d awoken.

Because every time his mask was out of his grasp. Every time he saw his scars. Every time he thought of her was a cruel reminder of what had happened that night.

* * *

 

_The murderer was at large and infamous in his area at the time. The story gave him little interest; but the only thing that made him remember it was the murder method all of the victims shared. They all had slit mouths and slit throats._

_His sister had seemed worried. He assured her. He told her that there was no way he would get them. She believed him._

_And then they were attacked._

_“Korekiyo!” she screamed out to you. She was holding back the man who towered over you both, wielding a serrated knife. “What are you doing?! Run! Get out of here!”_

_“Not without you!”_

_He ran toward the man, no, the_ **_monster_ ** _that dared harm his sister. Right as he had his knife slash down to strike her, Korekiyo grabbed the blade. He felt the skin of his hands get sawn away and he bit his lip against the pain._

_The monster laughed. What’s a brat like you going to do? Where did you get the gall to stand up to him? Do you know who he is?_

_He kicked Korekiyo away with his boot. The boy slid across the floor and collided with the wall. Before his sister could go after him, the monster had grabbed her._

_Then it happened._

_She gave Korekiyo one last pleading look before her face was torn apart._

_To this day, he still remembers the_ noises _all around him when it happened. The slashes. The screams. Then the gurgling. The dull thump as she hit the floor. The footsteps heading towards him. The sirens coming from outside._

_It was too late though._

_What point was there now?_

_She was staring up at him with unseeing eyes and torn apart cheeks with her blood pooling around her. And he was in her murderer’s grasp._

_By the time that he heard the door crash open, his cheeks were in a similar state. It even hurt to scream. The pain nearly blinded him, but he kept his eyes on his sister._

_The police stormed in. They grabbed the monster and they crowded around him. They asked him to remain calm. They picked him up from the floor. They told him that it would be over. Not one glance was spared toward his sister._

_He thought he could see a hand twitching toward him._

_“What are you doing?” he asked them. “Help_ her _!_ _Forget about me and help her!”_

_The police looked at each other then at him with pity._

_“Don’t just stand there! Help her!” His voice started cracking. “You can still save her! Just… Please...!” His pleas faded into sobs. “Don’t let Miyadera die...”_

* * *

 

A knock on his door brought him back.

He blinked as his vision started coming back together. He was in his room. He had his mask on. He was still in his night clothes.

“Korekiyo!” said the incredibly bright voice on the other side. “Yoohoo! Are you awake yet?”

Clearly it was Angie.

He walked over to the door. Immediately after he opened it, he put his uncovered hands behind his back.

“Yes?” he asked. “Is there anything you need?”

“Angie noticed that you were late for breakfast,” she answered. “Were you still asleep?”

“I… Yes, I was,” he lied.

“You sleep with your mask on?” she asked with a tilt of the head.

“This one is… my sleeping mask.”

“...Okay then!” She practically skipped away from him. “Hurry uuuup! Or we’ll finish without you!”

He shut the door behind her. He let out a sigh and started getting prepared to face the others.

While it was unfortunate that his life was robbed of a certain beauty, at least the humans around him could provide some substitutes.


End file.
